Page 73 of Stars in Nova

Their iron limbs thrashed as the wave slammed them into the jagged cavern rocks.

The unexpected wave crashing into the enemy filled the air, mingling with the crackle of short-circuiting electronics.

The rippling crest pushed out the Corilians, sending a flood surge to the outside.

‘Fokk!’ Kisan murmured under his breath.

Her command of the water was so palpable as he stared in disbelief.

The battle pressed forward, spilling onto the surface of Orilia XIV as the humid, echoing tunnels gave way to the scorched wasteland above.

The night sky glowed an angry orange, and ash drifted in the heat-hazed atmosphere.

The ground was blackened and cracked, littered with the remnants of past skirmishes.

The acrid scent of burning metal and seared earth was thick, catching in Kisan’s throat as he emerged into the open.

Vaelorii troops poured out behind him, Samira’s fluid, dynamic warriors flanking his position.

The cyborgs regrouped, their lines rigid, their glowing eyes casting an eerie light over the battlefield.

Kisan’s grip tightened on his rifle, the mask pulsing in erratic bursts. It timed its killing pulses with his rifle’s blasts, its glow dimming and flaring with every discharge of kinetic vigor.

Its precognition, including its ability to fire seconds before the enemy, faltered. Moments of clarity were interrupted by static-like interference.

Kisan gritted his teeth, his frustration mounting as his body weakened under the strain of the mask’s relentless energy draw.

A warning flared in his mind again.

He twisted, narrowly avoiding a plasma shot that grazed his arm. The heat burned, but he ignored it, racing forward.

‘Hold the line!’ he shouted to the troops, sending yet another kinetic sweep before them, felling an entire unit of Corilians.

His utterance was raw and authoritative, cutting through the chaos.

He raised his hand, channeling the mask’s power into a sweeping pulse.

More cyborgs buckled, and a shockwave radiating outward sent them toppling like dominoes.

Samira’s voice cut through to him, fierce and hard-edged. ‘Push them back to the ridge!’

She moved like a storm, her firearm attacks relentless, her disruptors cascading through the enemy ranks with devastating precision.

Kisan pressed on, his body a whirlwind of calculated strikes and energy bursts. However, the artifact’s erratic pulses were growing worse.

‘Damn!’ he cursed.

His chest heaved with effort, each breath a struggle against the overwhelming power coursing through him.

His hands trembled as he reloaded his rifle, and the vibrations from the mask made fine motor control challenging.

Through the battle haze, he spotted Samira.

Her movements were graceful, like dancing through the battlefield, a beacon amid the chaos.

Her strength ignited a wild wrath within him that pushed back the exhaustion threatening to claim him.

The fight raged on, and the Corilians were relentless in their assault.

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